A Novel in 300 parts, give or take. Jasfoup the demon uncovers a zombie problem in Laverstone. What do you do when RentoKill refuse to get involved? Dust off your saber, that's what.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 138.01

“Excellent,
Sergeant.” White dabbed his mouth with a napkin Peters had
thoughtfully lifted from the burger van earlier.

“Eggsellent,
you mean?” Peters grinned.

“What?”

“Eggsellent,
on account of it being a bacon and egg sandwich.”

“Oh.”
White forced a tight smile. “Very droll.”

“Thank
you, sir.”

“I am
impressed at your foresight and ingenuity.” He waved a hand at the
camping gear. “I never expected a hot bacon butty out here in the
wilds of Laverstone.”

“Salisbury,
I think, sir. I think this is the edge of Salisbury plain, isn't it?”

“I bloody
hope not. It'd be out of our jurisdiction. We'll call it Laverstone,
I think. I know I've seen Hobb's Carn in one of Ms Jones' local
history books so it must be in our patch.”

“That's
dubious logic, sir. The missus bought one of her pamphlets on
gargoyles and she mentions places in Oxfordshire in that one.”

“But I bet
it wasn't called 'Gargoyles of Laverstone', was it?”

“I forget
to be honest, sir. I'm not much interested in the subject, other than
as an example of art history. No crimes committed by gargoyles, are
there? Not that we can concern ourselves with, anyway.”

“There was
that one artist chappie who encased his victims in concrete and
passed them off as sculptures.”

“You're
not thinking of a film, are you, sir? That wouldn't work in real
life, on account of the concrete being permeable to fluids. You'd see
the rot.”